The Old Fashioned Way
by BtrixMcG
Summary: Brennan wants a baby but artificial insemination isn't working. Booth is there to help. Takes off mid-way through Critic In The Cabernet before things got all serious. Rated M for Mature. Very mature.
1. Chapter 1

Please read and review. Hope you enjoy.

*****

"Take your pants off."

"Ok," he said warily, drawing the word out as long as he could. He slowly reached for his belt buckle and unhooked it, ignoring her gaze. How had he gotten himself in this situation? "Do I take the rest of my clothes off too, or just the jeans?"

"Just the jeans. Keep the boxers on. We need to keep contact as minimal as possible," she said matter-of-factly. They stood by the side of her bed where they had come after a long clinical discussion over dinner about the various methods of conception.

"It's sex, Bones, er, Temperance," he said, her given name rolling uncomfortably off his lips. "People are supposed to be naked."

"It's procreation, Booth. Sex is just a means to an end. And don't call me Temperance. It's a little too..." she paused taking in a breath, "personal."

He grimaced. "You can't be serious about doing this," he said, his tone edged with incredulity.

"Are you changing your mind? You said you wanted to give me a baby. Artificial insemination didn't work. It's either this way, or we try another donor. It may be that your sperm isn't viable." She looked away, studying the drapes.

"Now hold on a minute there, Bones," he broke in, "We've already determined my...swimmers...are just fine. You know, maybe it's you, have you ever thought of that?" The moment he spit out the words, he regretted it. Her eyes flickered down for a moment and he realized he had hurt her. She gathered herself and stood up straighter, looking Booth squarely in the eye.

"That may be, but this is our last chance before I switch donors. Then, if that doesn't work, I guess I'll have those tests, regardless of how painful they are."

Booth felt a sudden wave of tenderness towards her. This was going to be hard. He loved her, as a dear friend, and wanted to help her, but was this too much for their friendship to bear? He thought she was amazing, beautiful, too smart for her own good, and damn sexy. But he was always very careful to not want more, not to imagine her in any way other than as a colleague, a companion. Now she wants me to have sex with her? Baby-making sex. The hottest sex there is. Dear God, he thought, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"I'm ovulating right now, so this is an optimal time, " she said, as if she was trying to convince him all over again.

He sighed. "Ok, ok. I said I was in, and I'm in. What do we do again?"

She smiled slightly, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, "Not...that. The rules you mentioned."

"No kissing. No unnecessary touching. No talking. Make it quick and get out," she paused, raising a finger to her lip as if she was trying to remember something else. She nodded, "Oh yes. Don't forget to ejaculate into me."

Booth rolled his eyes. "I got that. That's the whole reason we're here."

They stood arm's length regarding each other solemnly. He suddenly became aware of how small the room was even though in reality it was quite large. The weight of what they were about to do was on them. Once they started things would never be able to go back to the way they were. But, if it worked, if these "rules of engagement" would keep things in perspective, they might have a good chance to get out of this thing with their friendship intact.

Booth was unsure if it was possible to have sex with her without some kind of attachment happening, but there was no way he was letting another man father her child. And besides, he'd had sex with women he only knew casually and nothing ever transpired other than a good time. Like with Cam. Great sex, but there was no risk of emotional entanglement. This would be just like that. He hoped.

She turned suddenly and rummaged though her purse on the bed. "Oh, I forgot." She pulled out a brown paper bag and removed a tube of lubrication. "Thought we might use this to minimize foreplay."

He ran a hand roughly through his hair. He was never going to get through this. She placed the lube on the bedside table. "Ok, where were we?"

"Uh..."

"Oh, right. Undressing. Although we need to keep as much on as possible to minimize contact."

"I know, you already said that," he growled, suddenly feeling grouchy.

She stepped out of her heels and went over to the vanity to remove her jewelry. He sat on the bed and slipped off his shoes. "Should I take my socks off?," he called out.

"Up to you," she said.

He slipped the socks off and tucked them into the shoes. He glanced over at her. She had one leg up on the vanity seat and was reaching under her dress to pull off her pantyhose.

Good God, he thought, as he caught a glimpse of her long pale legs. He instantly felt himself grow hard and looked away before she caught him. He stood, unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them. He turned, holding his pants, unsure of where to put them. He walked over and dropped them on a nearby chair. Now he was, he hoped, as naked as he would ever get around her. BlackRamones shirt and plaid boxers. He wished he had worn a different shirt. Something less form fitting.

"I'm going to leave my dress on."

"Ok." He couldn't look at her. Best to keep my head down and plow through this thing, he thought.

She walked over to the opposite side of the bed. "I want to thank you Booth, for doing this for me," she swallowed hard, emotion making her voice quiver, "You are a true friend."

He looked up and smiled, cocking his head to the side, "You're welcome Bones," he said softly. "So, lights on or off?"

"Well, a brightly lit room may keep things more neutral, but at the same time may create too much visual stimulation."

"Let's play it by ear then. Lights on, but if its too much, then we'll turn it off."

"Ok," she said, her wide gaze the only indication of her nervousness.

She reached down to the bed, pulling the duvet down to the foot.

"Wait," he said, "What happens if this doesn't work? If you don't get pregnant?"

"Well, I guess we can try again tomorrow ," she said, "but if I stop ovulating we'll either have to wait till next month, or," she paused, unsure of what to say next, "Or we decide it's not going to work and we go to plan B."

"Right." Plan B was never going to happen. Not in his lifetime.

They climbed into bed pulling the duvet over them. They lay side by side looking at each other, unsure of how to start.

She pulled her dress up over her hips. "I'm ready."

He grimaced. "Just like that? It's not so simple for men, Bones."

"Yes, you'll need an erection."

"Gah, don't say it like that."

"What should I say?"

"Nevermind," he said. "Just give me a sec." He reached down and through his boxers gave himself a tug. Hm. Nothing. He was surprised. He thought for sure sex with such a beautiful woman would have him harder than steel at just the thought of it. His body was not complying. As if it knew something he didn't.

"Ready?" she said, arranging herself on the pillows.

"Um..well, no. Having a little trouble. Lack of foreplay, I think."

She sat up on one elbow. "Oh. Ok. You want some lube?"

"No, I think I got it. Give me another moment. " She laid back down looking up at the ceiling. Booth did the same, both of them staring quietly into space. He had one hand on his cock trying to force it to life. His eyes drifted shut as he tried to imagine previous sexual encounters. There was this woman a few months ago, she was quite the hellcat, he thought, as he felt himself begin to harden. He pictured when he was entering her from behind, her perfect heart shaped ass underneath his hands. His cock grew harder and longer as he imagined himself ramming into her. He was wild that night, wound up after a particularly long day of crime solving with Bones had him aching for a release. He remembered turning her around to switch positions, and as he pumped his cock harder he could picture her face as she came, except when he flipped her over in his mind, it was Bones staring back at him.

"Whoa," he said, his hand flying off his cock.

He felt Brennan turn over and look at him. "Are you ok, Booth?"

"Yes," he said, his voice raspy, "I'm ready."

She said nothing, but spread her legs as he climbed on top of her. Suddenly he was here, face to face with her, their nether regions exposed and about to be joined. "Hang on," he grunted, positioning himself. He reached down, his hand tugging at her inner thigh to pull her legs further apart. She made a soft sound. He froze. Was that a gasp? That's definitely against the rules. The rules. The rules he was now beginning to think were asinine.

He lifted himself up on his arms and looked down at her. He couldn't help himself, she looked utterly delicious lying there, her hair splayed out on the bed, her eyes smoky and half-lidded. She looked at him solemnly as he took a hand and guided his cock to her entrance. He was unsure if she would be ready without any foreplay, but as he rested the tip on the outside folds, she was very wet and swollen.

He swallowed hard and surged in. Holy cow, she was tight and very, very hot. He paused for a moment at the hilt, then withdrew a little and surged up into her again. He looked down at her. Her eyes were tightly shut. Good, he thought, I can look at her and she won't know it. As he moved slowly in her, he watched small emotions play out on her face, her jaw tighten and loosen, her lips part and close.

She didn't match his thrusts though, but stayed as still as possible. Ok, he thought. If this is what she has to do to remain detached then so be it. But he had to admit to himself he was incredibly turned on. She was astonishingly beautiful as she lay beneath him, her skin a glossy alabaster, her eyelashes long, dark and lustrous, her auburn hair wild and tangled in the pillow. As her lips parted and a tongue darted out to wet them, he felt a wave of longing to kiss her. He felt himself grow harder as he quickened his thrusts. He drove into her relentlessly. His hand drifted down to grip her hip. He felt her start to move beneath him, slowly at first, almost too subtle to notice with the naked eye. They fit together perfectly, he thought, like a matched set of everything: dishes, shoes, twins. She shifted her legs, bringing her knees up to give him better access. He plunged into her, over and over, moving perfectly in sync now, their lower half of their bodies admitting what the upper half could not.

Booth's pace grew quicker and quicker. He knew he wasn't supposed to wait for her to have an orgasm, but it seemed ungentlemanly not to ask.

"Are you close?" he rasped, never losing the rhythm.

"Yes," she called out in a whisper, forgetting the conditions they had agreed to beforehand.

He pounded into her wildly, determined to give her the best orgasm she had ever had in her entire life. He reached around, hooking a leg under his arm, lifting her slightly off the bed with each thrust.

Her eyes flew open and locked on his as she started to come. "Oh, yes, Booth. Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh. Oh. My. God." Wave after wave of pleasure overcame her, her pussy opening and closing on him like a flower. He felt himself explode, a cry escaping his lips as he spilled into her. Their hips fused together, rocking violently against each other. Never breaking her gaze, he leaned down capturing her mouth in his as he felt himself orgasm for what seemed like forever. Their mouths locked together, hungrily devouring each other, their bodies touching, breast to breast. Brennan's arms reached around him pulling him deeper into the embrace. They rode the last wave down together, his hand releasing her leg and coming up to cup her breast, a soft mound with a hard tip pliant under his hand.

They continued to rock together until they slowly came to a stop. For one infinitesimal moment, they were still one being, him lodged deep inside her, her legs wrapped around his, a true beast with two backs. He buried his face in her hair, trying to keep as still as possible, trying to stave off the moment that was bound to arrive sooner rather than later. Suddenly he knew what a bad idea this all was. There was no way he could ever give this up. Not do this again. He would think about it every moment for probably the rest of his life.

"Booth?"

"Yes?"

"Can you get off me now?"

He frowned and rolled off her. He looked at her face, she looked irritated. Was it not good for her? No way, he thought, she just had a hell of an orgasm.

"You need to leave," she said grimly, "I have to remain prone to give the sperm the best chance to fertilize the egg."

He stood awkwardly, confused, forgetting where he left his pants. She turned away, her back to him. "Thank you Booth," she said quietly after a few moments. She looked over her shoulder, "let's hope this worked."

"Yeah," was all he could squeak out. He finished dressing and left wordlessly, locking the door quietly behind him.

As he walked to his car he tried to block out the image of what she looked like as she writhed beneath him. Think about hockey, he thought. But the images would not leave his head. That's it, he thought, that's all I get. Was it worth it?

Hell yes. No matter what happens now that was worth every damn second.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: A reviewer suggested I put character thoughts in italics. Now doing that, and will repair Chapter One when I get a chance. Also I know this chapter is a little short. But it just seemed right. Thanks for all the great feedback. Keep the reviews coming.

****

Brennan took the rubberband off her wrist and pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail. Booth was on his way up to her office and she didn't want to appear too sexy, with long flowing brown hair and glowing complexion when she saw him. Last night didn't exactly go as planned and she was nervous about seeing him. What if he acted funny, or she let on how shaken she was? Shaken by what, she thought? How amazing it was? How, after he left, her body cried out for more until she was almost in tears? That was certainly something that had never happened to her before with any other lover. Sure, she had wanted a second go-around with other men, but had never craved it more than she had last night. It's probably just because I couldn't have it, she thought to herself. It was forbidden, therefore more attractive. She took in a big breath and released it in a gust. Yes, that's it. This made her feel much better. She felt like she could face him again.

But when he appeared in her doorway a moment later, her resolve crumbled immediately as if it was a thing made out of tissue paper. He was dressed in his regulation black suit with white shirt and black tie, which always brought to her mind the detectives from 1950's TV shows. She had always recognized that he was handsome and very manly but today, towering in the doorway, he looked different. More dangerous.

He was clearly nervous as well, looking at her apprehensively as if he was preparing himself for a hard slap on the face.

"Can you close the door?" she asked softly.

He closed it and stood there awkwardly.

She began. "Last night was a little unexpectedly, um..." she paused unsure of how to finish, "intimate. This was probably due to letting human emotions that are normally derive from sexual experience cloud our judgement and actions."

Booth narrowed his eyes. "What?" She could tell he was already impatient with what he called 'squint speak'.

She continued, "It is normal and to be expected, but frankly, might be damaging to our friendship if we continue." The words rushed out all in one breath.

"But?" he asked, sensing she had something else to say.

"But" she said hesitantly, "I still think you are the ideal candidate to procreate with, and if you are up for it, I'm willing to try once more." She stood taller, throwing her shoulders back. "I'm still ovulating. I took my temperature this morning, so if you'd like, we can try again tonight." She felt shy, like a teenager asking a boy to dance, instead of a grown woman asking her friend to have sex with her.

Booth's mouth dropped open.

"Except..., " she said.

"Except?" he repeated, his mouth closing into a hard line, sensing an important caveat.

"Only if you think we can do this without emotional attachment."

His face grew stony and his eyes unreadable. "I told you I was in all the way, so tonight would be fine. What time?"

"Eight?" she squeaked out.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Look," he said softening, "I also hope this isn't going to affect our relationship, our friendship. We'll try again tonight, and if it doesn't work..." he trailed off unable to say the words.

She nodded solemnly. "Ok," she said. Then, trying to brighten the mood and change the subject, said, "Where are we on the Tatum case?"

He took a moment as if trying to decide he could put all that had happened between them aside for a moment. He drew in a ragged breath and arranged his features back into a professional mask. "We haven't gotten far. Ballistics has the gun registered to a guy named Jake Perry..."

He continued talking and Brennan tried to pay attention, but her mind was already on the evening yet to come. It was imperative that she remain as impassive tonight as possible. Booth was an emotional creature, whereas she was not. He thought the concept of love really existed.

She had to protect his heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: So sorry for the delay in posting this. It was a lot harder to write and get right (!) than I expected. Hope you enjoy. Don't forget to rate and review. Danke.**

******

Brennan paced back and forth between the kitchen and the front door, every few seconds looking up at the clock. She had been doing this since the clock struck eight on the nose, waiting for Booth to show up for the sex. She tried not to pace. Each time she went into the kitchen she tried to give herself a concrete task, sort the newspapers, clean out her purse, but each time she abandoned the task even before beginning it. She had to admit, she was nervous. She had thought about coming home a bit early and taking a bath and fixing herself up a little, but that seemed contrary to what they were trying to do. It's just sex, she thought for the millionth time. Yeah, hot hot sex with a hot hot man. She brought her hands up to the side of her head and squeezed. Please. Stop thinking that.

She looked at the clock again. Quarter past eight, she noted grimly. He was definitely late. How can he be late? she thought. He knows how important this is to me. And besides, he's always on time. Early even. Wait, maybe he's not coming. Oh, no. Maybe he's changed his mind. With the rush of these thoughts she went from irritated to enraged to terrified. She sighed and made herself sit down at the kitchen table. I'll be glad when this is over and things can get back to normal. Well, normal and pregnant.

There was a soft knock on the door that broke her reverie. She jumped up, startled. Eyes fixed on the door she slowly walked over and opened it. She could hear every sound as if it were amplified ten thousand times, her quiet breath, the shuffle of her shoes against the tile, the rush of air the door made as she opened it wide.

Booth stood motionless on the threshold, a handful of daisies held in front of him. "Sorry, I'm late, but I stopped to get these for you." He thrust them over to her forcefully, practically throwing them into her hands. He looked at the floor and then back up. "I know it's just..." his voice lowered, "sex, but I thought it might be a nice gesture of, uh, friendship." He stood up straighter, visibly relieved at having completed this self-imposed task.

"Thank you, Booth. These are lovely. I'll put them in water right away. Come in." She was thankful to have something to do and busied herself looking for a proper vase. She settled on a small porcelain one she had gotten in central China when she was excavating a mass grave. She filled the vase with water and set the pretty yellow flowers on the table.

Booth stood just inside the door as if coming all the way into the apartment was somehow dangerous. He spied the nearest kitchen table chair and made a beeline for it.

"Would you like some tea?" Brennan asked, turning to the stove to set up the kettle.

"Got anything stronger?"

"Oh," Brennan said, surprised, turning to him. "Wine? Beer? I have both."

"Harder?"

"Whiskey?"

"Perfect."

Brennan walked into the living room and fetched a bottle of Scotch. "Someone left me this as a thank you last year for my work identifying the remains of early European settlers in an Asian tomb . I haven't tried it. Is this a good one?" She held out the bottle to him.

"Talisker. Hell yes. It's one of the finest Scotches ever made. Island single malt." He took the bottle out of her hand and looked closer at the label. "This is 20 year old whiskey. Open 'er up."

Brennan took two juice glasses down from the cabinet, sat down at the table and poured them both a shot.

They held up the glasses and looked at each other. "Here's to a successful fertilization!" Brennan stated a little too enthusiastically.

"Slainte," Booth said, downing the whiskey.

"Prost," Brennan replied and followed his lead.

Suddenly they both laughed. "This is crazy, right?" Brennan said. "That we're doing this?"

"Definitely. It is definitely the craziest thing I've ever done."

They fell silent. An uncomfortable silence, like a couple on the verge of a huge fight, or a child right before he bursts into tears.

"Another shot?" he asked, breaking the quiet. He held the bottle out.

"Sure, but just one more. I don't want you falling asleep on me or not performing."

"I assure you that won't be a problem." He poured them each one more shot and they downed it in silence. The time had come. There was no more stalling.

"Ready?" she said, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Yes," he replied, his own heart beating so loud he was sure she could hear it.

They both stood, walking into the bedroom with so much trepidation it looked like they were on their way to the electric chair. Wordlessly they parted and went to opposite sides of the bed and started to undress in the manner they had before. Same rules. Same restrictions. He in brown t-shirt (Led Zeppelin) and striped boxers, she in the black rayon (non-wrinkle) dress she had worn to work.

As Brennan took off her shoes and took her hair down out of a ponytail, she thought again about protecting his heart. I must not forget that, she thought. Try, try, try to keep it as businesslike as possible. It's the only way. Protect his heart. Protect his heart. She repeated this to herself like a mantra over and over until it suddenly occurred to her it wasn't his heart she was trying to protect. She sat down on the bed hard, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Booth, feeling weary at having to go through this again, all the pretending, sat on the side of the bed undressing, his heart and body veering back and forth between excitement and dread. What if she doesn't respond like she did last night? I don't think I can take that kind of coldness," he thought. As he took his pants off he made himself a promise. Tonight, if he could arrange it, would be the best night of sex Dr. Temperance Brennan had ever had.

"Lights on or off?" he asked, as both of them stood facing each other across the bed, appropriate clothes removed.

Her eyes flickered up to his, remembering how they had looked at each other last night. "Off I think, " she murmured, slipping into bed.

He switched off the lamp and moved in next to her. They lay for a moment, eyes adjusting to the dark, the only light coming from the picture window. With the curtains open, moonlight flooded the room, illuminating everything in a soft blue glow.

He turned to her. She lay, unmoving, staring straight up at the ceiling. They lay like that for a long time, listening to each other breathing, to the sounds in the apartment, to the sounds coming in from outside world. His eyes drank her in, every inch of her, from her long dark hair reaching up and over the edge of the bed, past the curve of her forehead, over her parted lips, over the curve of her breasts and to where the rest of her body disappeared under the comforter. He knew it before, knew it from the beginning really, if he wanted to admit it, that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. There was a lushness about her that she herself couldn't see. Even without the moonlight he knew she glowed.

She could feel his eyes on her, feel them travel over her body. It made her skin flush and she hoped he couldn't see it. She tried hard not to move a single muscle. She was sure if she moved her body would betray her. She wanted him so badly.

"Hey," he whispered softly, "Are you ready?"

She turned to him so they were facing each other. Her face was hidden now by the shadows and she was grateful, because she was sure it was all there on her face as plain as day. She couldn't pretend she didn't want him.

Her body, without her mind's consent, leaned into him and captured his mouth with her own. She heard him breathe in sharply, surprised, then return the kiss, his mouth as soft and gentle as her own. He tasted like whiskey and chewing gum and something else. Something familiar. Her hand reached out tentatively, brushing his shoulder to wrap around the back of his neck, drawing him further into the kiss. His arms reached over and under her pulling her to him, the space between them compressed slowly like the air out of a balloon. Her hands wrapped in his hair and as she flushed against him she could feel how hard he was for her already.

He pressed her against him so tightly he was afraid he was going to crush her. His hands explored her back and shoulders, her neck where the flesh disappeared into the hairline. He inhaled, her soft lavender scent flooding his senses. The kiss deepened, their tongues intertwined, mouths fused together. He broke away, sucking gently on her bottom lip, his hand coming up to cup her face. Her hands moved from his chest, feeling all the hard edges of his muscles, to his nipples rigid against his tight t-shirt . He growled into her mouth, his hands moving lower to clutch at her hip.

Slightly, imperceptibly, she realized they had begun to move together. Languidly the rhythm had begun, she up, him down. Him up, her down, like palms of the hands rubbing together. He could feel every curve of her as she moved against him. The way her breasts crushed against him on every down stroke and rose with every up one. She felt him grow harder and harder, her hands aching to touch him, to run her fingers along the outline of him against his boxers. Her panties were already soaked and clinging to her, her own musky scent enveloping them both.

"Booth. Touch me." She didn't specify where, but arched herself against him. He got the idea. He rolled on top of her and propped himself up on his elbows, his hands free to cup her full breasts. He massaged them gently in circles, his fingers coming up to tenderly pinch the nipples through her dress. He dropped his lips to the topmost part of her cleavage, his nose nudging between. She reached and pulled one side of the dress down to expose a lacy cream-colored bra. His lips trailed over the edge of the bra with tiny, soft kisses. His fingers brushed over the stiff peaks of her nipples, and back to the undersides of her breasts, never settling, always teasing. Brennan bowed into him, aching for a firm touch. His hands pushed her breasts together, his lips grazing across the nipples now side by side. He heard her breath quicken, felt her rolling under him, dying for a small release.

He sat up on his knees over her and pulled his t-shirt up over his head. Brennan shimmied out of her dress, leaving her bra and panties on. They both paused, suspended in air, in awe of each other and the moment. Brennan's eyes were wide as saucers as she took in Booth above her, looming like a god, his shoulders wide and imposing. She reached for him, but he captured her hands in his, lowering himself to leave a trail of kisses down her firm abdomen, releasing her hands only when his lips touched the edge of her panties. She held onto his shoulders, breath sucked as he teased his lips along the skin at the edge of the lace. He moved further south to the top of her mound, taking her into his mouth through the fabric, sucking lightly. Her eyes closed as she felt herself tremble under his touch. He worked his way back up, his tongue trailing, interspersed with tiny kisses until he reached her mouth, kissing her deeply and soulfully, wrapping his arms around her like a cloak.

Her whole body was soft and pliant, putty in his hands. He reached under her with one hand, cupping her ass and grinding her into him. His cock, straining against his boxers was nudged between her legs, dying to cut all this foreplay nonsense and enter her. She ground her hips down on his cock, her breath coming in short bursts, her arms locked around his shoulders, her eyes never leaving his.

"Take off my panties," she gasped, leaning her forehead against his, gyrating into him, loving the feel of his cock pressing at her womanhood.

"No," he said forcefully, trying to keep himself in check. He would like nothing better than to be inside her right now, riding her off to orgasm after orgasm, but there were a few things he wanted to do first. He sat up on his knees over her. "Take your bra off." Without a word, she reached behind her back and unsnapped the bra throwing it over the side of the bed.

"Beautiful," he said as her breasts broke free and into the palms of his hands. He fell on them like a hungry man, devouring every inch of them, but carefully avoiding the nipples until she was practically bursting at the seams.

"Booth. Booth," she keened, her voice raspy and full of need.

"Patience, Temperance. Patience."

At the sound of her given name, she fell apart completely. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her hips arching into his, grinding herself into him. This was more intense than anything she had ever experienced before. This wasn't mere sex. This was something else entirely. She ceased making any coherent sounds, just moaned as he circled her nipples, never satisfying.

"Please. Please."

"You want it?"

"Oh, God, yes."

He fell on her nipples, sucking in deeply, his hands coming up to cup them. "Oh, oh," Brennan cried out. She felt so close to orgasm and she hadn't even taken her panties off yet.

She pushed him off her with as much force as she could. He flew to the side of the bed, looking up at her quizzically. She stood up on the bed and ripped off her panties. She turned to him. "Take your boxers off now. I mean it." Her voice had passed mere passion and was verging on desperation.

He smiled wickedly up at her. "So forceful, aren't we?" He lifted his hips up and eased off the shorts slowly, exposing his long, thick, perfectly formed, and very hard cock. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. It was more beautiful than she had imagined.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked like an Amazon standing over him, her breasts firm and high, with nipples rigid and standing at attention. Her trim bush called to him. He sat up and with one quick move, latched his mouth between her legs. She gasped, surprised, then gasped again at the intensity of his mouth sucking on her pussy. She tasted so delectable, like a pear, maybe. A perfect pear. His hands came around to her ass, kneading the two cheeks together as he feasted on her.

Her hands wrapped in his hair. She ground against him, feeling herself close, so close to falling over the edge. She felt his fingers leave the cheeks of her ass and travel lower until his hands lay on either side of her pussy. He spread her until she felt completely exposed, completely undone, and chose that moment to suck in herclit and slip two fingers hard into her pussy. She exploded into his mouth, clutching at him, trying not to fall over, off the bed, into oblivion. He held her tight, his mouth fused to her, sucking in all the juices she had to offer.

He removed his mouth as she calmed, lowering her down to him. He moved from his knees, and sat, bringing her straight down to straddle him. Now they were face to face as she sunk down on him. He filled her completely and they stayed like that for a moment. They looked straight at each other, faces almost touching. She was covered in a slight sheen of sweat and his mouth glistened with her juices. He looked down at her lips as if he wanted to kiss them but wasn't sure he should. His eyes flickered back up to hers. There was no pretense in her eyes, her eyes were as naked as she was. He reached up, capturing her head in his hands and her mouth in his. They began moving together, slowly at first and then with more intensity.

They both had never experienced such a moment before, and both seemed to grasp the enormity of it. Their bodies were on fire as he held her hips moving faster and faster in her. She bounced up and down on him, drawing as much length as she could before sinking back onto the very base of where their bodies met. His hands tangled in her hair, drawing her head back harshly as he started to pump into her harder and harder. She cried out, on the brink of something big. He moved his hands to her face and finally to her lips, his thumb trailing the edge of her bottom lip. She drew his thumb into her mouth, sucking on it hard, lost now, as she wildly rode him. They both cried out, him first, then her as the feeling overtook them and they came together, crashing on each other like waves on the rocks.

"Oh baby, baby," he cried out, burying himself between her breasts as he came down. They rode down the mountain slowly, still moving together, neither wanting to stop completely. Finally they were still, him still lodged deep in her, both of them clutching each other for dear life. Wrapped around each other, they dared not move and break the magic. But finally he pulled back.

"You should probably lie down, right?" he said quietly into her ear. "Give the little guys the best chance at breaching the defenses?" She nodded, unable to speak, disengaging herself to lie on her side. He moved next to her, spooning her, his hand coming up to cup her breast. She felt him snuggle up to her. "Comfortable?" he asked. She nodded again, her hand coming up to cover his own. She felt so blown away but what just happened and so scared to admit it. If he felt one tenth of what she did, she knew she was in serious trouble. She felt him nuzzle his nose in her hair and sigh. She felt her eyes grow heavier and heavier.

They drifted in and out of sleep, locked together, until she woke only a short while longer to feel him hard and pressing against her. She smiled sleepily at him over her shoulder. He was awake and looking hopefully at her.

"I suppose we could give it another go-around. Just to be sure," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I was so hoping you'd say that."

As his hand slipped further down her abdomen to her nether regions, she sighed contentedly. This was something she could get used to.


	4. Chapter 4

Authors note: So sorry I update so infrequently. First off, I'm busy as hell (aren't we all) and secondly, it takes me so long till I feel satisfied with what I've written. I'll try to do better. I promise. Please rate and review. Dziękuję (Thank you in Polish).

*****

--A few weeks later--

They walked into the diner and sat down at a booth this time instead of the stools that they so recently had begun to favor. Booth had walked over from her office with her with a heavy heart. When she had asked him to lunch he could tell she wanted to relay bad news and the only bad news he could imagine was that she was not pregnant. Since those two nights of lovemaking he had barely thought of anything else, but he respected the boundaries she immediately put up so they could manage to work together. And things had pretty much gone back to normal. Except when they got too close, to examine remains or bend over a body on the lab table, then he could feel the electricity surging between them. He had no idea if she felt the same way. She never gave any indication that she did. Always professional, sometimes goofy. It was the same ol' Bones.

He wished he had the same kind of self-control. He was constantly reminded of what had happened. She would turn her head to talk to a colleague and he would remember how she arched against him, turning her head to give him more access to her neck. He'd see her hands at work, holding some scientific thingymajig and he'd remember how they looked wrapped around his cock, her eyes locked on his as she watched him spurt come all over her hands, her mouth. They had made love countless times that night, had shown each other every kind of pleasure, and then when morning came, she kicked him out. She seemed to make some sort of decision and she just turned it off. Cold. To say that he was devastated was a understatement. He stumbled out of the apartment and for the first time since college considered getting drunk at dawn. But instead he just went home, showered and went to work. He'd endured a lot worse than this, he told himself at the time, real pain, physical pain. But not since Rebecca had he felt so abandoned. And it wasn't even the end of his relationship with Rebecca that was so painful. It was when they parted he knew he wouldn't be able to see Parker every day and this broke his heart. Luckily he didn't have to see Brennan that day, but when he did, he did his best to remain as close to the old Booth as possible.

And now he was sitting across from her and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to keep it together long enough to have her tell him the whole thing was a miserable failure. She looked beautiful, as usual, her hair up in a messy bun, a cream colored button down shirt and blue pencil skirt that hugged every curve. Is she trying to drive me crazy? he thought.

Brennan ordered tea for herself, then, glancing at Booth, ordered him a cup of coffee. He looked nervous. She wasn't sure how she was going to break this to him, especially considering all they had experienced together. She had lost something that second night, a part of herself she wasn't able to recover. And this completely terrified her. For Brennan, there was no concept of love, no concept of happily ever after. Maybe it was her job, definitely her childhood, but she never saw that anyone in love was ever really happy in the long run. She couldn't risk that happening with Booth. Their relationship was far too valuable to destroy it with a temporary coupling. This is why it's best to have these sorts of experiences with people you don't know very well, she thought. Makes it far easier to end it.

Best to get started and get it over with, she thought. "I think you know why I want to talk to you," she said, swallowing hard, "It didn't work. We tried to conceive a baby, but maybe it's my age, or your sperm, or infertility, or whatever, but it didn't work and I need to look into other options." There. She said it.

Booth stayed stock still listening to the words rush out of her mouth in all one breath. "Ok," he said. What do you want to do next?" He tried not to sound too hopeful. 'Other options' sounded ominous.

Her eyes shifted away, looking out of the window. The tea and coffee were delivered and they took several sips in silence. Booth fiddled with an open sugar packet waiting for her to speak.

"I have to find another donor."

Booth closed his eyes. She kept talking, telling him how hard this was for her, how she really wanted him to be the father of her child, but it just wasn't meant to be. She kept talking but he wasn't listening anymore. There was no way he could let another man between her legs for as long as he was alive. And there was no way he could let her have a baby with anyone else. There had to be another way.

He interrupted, "I think we should try again. Just keep trying until it happens."

They looked at each other for a long time after he said that. It was a serious look, the one that passes between people so rarely, but speaks volumes. In that moment there was no thought, no internal chatter, only the feeling that they were the only two people left on the planet. All of the rest of humanity didn't exist, didn't matter.

"We can't," she blurted out.

"Why not?"

"It's not good for our friendship to be so...so...close." A small line of worry appeared on her forehead.

"I don't want to be friends," he said matter-of-factly. This was it, he thought. All cards on the table.

"What?"

"Bones. Temperance. I just can't. I can't. Because I'm in love with you."

"No you're not."

"What? Wait. No, I am in love with you. I want you. I want to be with you, make a baby with you. Have a family. Go skiing in the winter and Disney during summer vacations. " His face was open, pained. It was a huge gamble for him to admit this. She was sure to strike him down. Then why are you doing it? a voice in his head cried out.

You don't know what you're talking about," she said sternly. She looked away, out of the window, watching people passing by, people who were unaware of the turbulence inside the diner. Why did he have to do this now? Why does he have to make this so difficult?

"I want a baby," she said for what felt like the millionth time.

"I know," he said. "I want one too. With you." His eyes grew tender, the worry lines on his head softening. "I love you. Like I've never loved anyone or anything. Except for Parker. Ok, that's different. But I want to spend every waking moment for the rest of my sorry, pathetic life with you, yelling at each other about who's going to do the dishes, rubbing each others back at the end of a hard day, sharing everything."

"I gotta go," she said abruptly, grabbing her bag, rifling through and throwing money on the table. She just had to hold it together for a moment longer, get out of this place and then cry her eyes out. Maybe, finally, tell Angela.

"I'm sorry Booth. I really am." She stood. "I can't be in love with you. I mean," she corrected herself, "I'm not in love with you." The huge lump in her throat was almost causing her to choke. Any minute and it was going to be too late, she would fall completely apart in front of his eyes, 'thaw and resolve itself into a dew'.

She moved to walk past him and he grabbed her arm. "No Temperance. There is something here. I can feel it. Are you going to admit it or not?" He was holding her arm very tightly and she could tell he was getting angry.

Wrenching her arm free, she leaned down, whisper-shouting in his ear, "How many times have I told you, I am a scientist. There is no such thing as love. It's a biological imperative to keep people procreating. If I told you I felt any differently, I'd be lying. End of story." She stomped past him, swinging the door so hard it banged on it's hinges.

She made it as far as the next corner before she started to come apart. She spied an alley and sprinted down it, hiding in the doorway, trying to ignore the stale smell of urine and god knows what else, the tears coming hard now, uncontrollable. She sobbed for a few minutes like that, then wiped her eyes. Why did she feel so incredibly sad? There's no denying we shared something that night, she thought. Maybe that's it. While it hadn't been hard for her in the past to feel nothing but sexual attraction for a lover, she did sometimes feel tender towards them. Maybe that's what's happening. You can't make love like that and not feel anything. In her state, she didn't notice she had replaced the usual term "sex" with "making love."

She composed herself, wiping mascara off her cheeks and taking several deep breaths. She had made the right decision, she told herself. I do love him, as a friend, and I have to try to preserve that. I can't hurt him.

But the heaviness clung to her heart and she knew at that moment, she would never recover from what had happened to her and it felt like she would never be happy again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Thanks for all the great reviews. I especially like the ones that implore me to STOP THE ANGST. Here are the last two chapters. Hope you enjoy**.

Booth stood stock still in the middle of his kitchen, his eyes riveted on the calendar. He had just gotten home after a long day at a particularly gruesome crime scene and had jumped into the shower soon after he hit the front door. Towel wrapped around his waist and hair so wet it was dripping down his back, he went to the fridge for a beer. A beer that would finally wash the whole rotten day away. That's when he noticed the calendar and what day it was. Nov 24th. Exactly one month ago today he was making love to her. _ Well, one month and a few hours, _he thought. Seeing the same date one month later shocked him. _Where did the time go?_ he thought. One the one hand, it had flown by, they were getting along as best they could. The tension between them had made it impossible for them to be in the same room together, but soon he had gotten used to having Angie or Hodgins present, and frankly he was grateful. He knew if he was alone with her he might say something stupid. Reveal himself, again, in another humiliating manner. _Because there is nothing like telling a woman you're in love with her and having her stomp all over your heart. _However, they had solved a lot of cases in one month, it seemed like a record number. This, he was sure, contributed to the feeling the month had flown by.

On the other hand, when he had left work and her, time extended beyond its usual measure and he was left with hours in the evening with nothing but thoughts and memories to try and block out. He wasn't much of a drinker, but the thought had crossed his mind many times to take it up. He knew, though, this would only make it more painful, and might contribute to him doing something idiotic like drunk-dialing. He couldn't risk that. So he put on any blues album he could find and simultaneously watched basketball with the sound off. Falling asleep on the couch was preferable to going to his bed, because when he slipped between the sheets he missed her all the more. One thing that really bothered him, more even than his misery of unrequited love, was that they seemed to have lost the deep friendship they had. No more dinners together after solving a case, no more quick drinks at the bar. They were friendly, sure, but the camaraderie was lost. And he wasn't sure if it was coming back, or even could. He had declared passionate love for her. She would probably always be on her guard around him.

He uprooted himself from the spot in front of the fridge and opened it, pulling out leftover pizza which he popped into the microwave. He impatiently tapped his foot waiting for the bell to ring, anxious to get in front of the TV where he could begin zoning out. _I wonder who's playing tonight? _he wondered. Without bothering to change from his towel he shuffled over to the couch, pizza and beer in hand, turning on the TV with the remote. He settled in, then realized he hadn't put on an album. He started to cross to the stereo but then stopped short. He sat back down. _Maybe I'll watch with the sound turned up, _he thought. This made him slightly relieved, maybe it meant he was starting to get over her.

That's when he heard a soft knock at the door.

He seriously considered ignoring it. He was 99% sure it was her. He wasn't sure how he knew. He certainly hadn't expected her to show up at his place anytime in the near future. But he was certain it was her. _Maybe she saw the date too, _he thought. His heart nearly leapt through his chest at the thought of it, but as he rose and crossed to the door he beat those feelings back down. _Don't get carried away, old buddy. She's probably here to tell you about the new sperm she's hired. _He opened the door, forgetting he was in a wet towel and nothing else. Her gaze clued him in.

She looked surprised when he opened the door, like she hadn't expected him to be there, although it was clear from the lights, someone was home. First she took in his hair, damp and dripping slightly onto his shoulders. _Oh my, _she thought as her gaze drifted down to his bare shoulders and chest, broad and muscled and still wet from the shower. Then her gaze fell lower to the towel and she blushed deeply. Her eyes shot back up.

"Hi," she said shyly.

He regarded her calmly without moving or making an indication that it is unusual to answer the doorway almost completely naked.

"Hi Bones. What's up? Case?" He was doing his best to ignore her outfit. It seemed to be the same wraparound dress she wore to work regularly, but tonight he was noticed how the deep blue hue of the dress complemented her eyes.

"No...I just wanted to talk to you. About something." She bit the corner of her lip and shifted her weight to the other foot. She was very uncomfortable and if she had to have this conversation with him dressed, or undressed like that, it was going to be impossible.

"Come in," he said, "I'll just go change into something less comfortable." With a uncomfortable smile he headed off into the bedroom, closing the door. Brennan walked around the living room, noting the slice of pizza sitting on the coffee table and the opened beer.

"Can I get a beer?" she shouted to him from the living room.

"Sure," he yelled back, "help yourself."

She grabbed a beer and plopped down on the couch. _Wait, maybe I shouldn't sit here, _she thought. _He might be sitting here and I can't sit too near him right now. _She got up and sat in the easy chair in the corner. _Ok, this feels safer. _She clutched her beer between her legs and mentally steeled herself for the upcoming conversation.

Booth reappeared from the bedroom in jeans, pulling a white t-shirt over his head. For a moment Brennan glimpsed his abs, hard and muscled. She felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. She tore her eyes away and looked at the TV.

"Good game?"

"Yeah, it's ok. So what's going on?" He wasn't going to draw this any further out than he had to. He sat down on the couch.

"So it's been a month, since we, uh, tried," she said.

His heart lept. She did notice! He tried to remain calm. "Yes?" he said seriously, trying to appear indifferent.

"So, when it wasn't successful I told you I was going to find another donor."

"Right...?"

"So I found one."

He tried to keep his face as impassive as possible, but he was enraged. _Why did she come all the way over here to tell me this? _he shouted to himself. _Couldn't she have sent an email? A text message? Christ._ He ran a hand through his hair and took a long shaggy breath before he looked at her again.

She continued. "He's a doctor. 6'2". 190 pounds. Played lacrosse and rugby in high school. He's very intelligent and his genes will be a good match for mine." She studied his face, watching as the pain flickered across his face before he carefully hid it again.

"But that's not what I'm here to tell you."

He looked up at her, his eyes wary.

She looked down at her hands, inhaled and said all in one breath, "I can't do it. I've thought a lot about it, and you are the only person I can imagine being the father of my baby." She drew in another ragged breath and continued, "It may not be meant to be, but if it's not you, it can't be anyone. I tried looking, fooling myself into thinking I could find a replacement for you, for your qualities. Someone brave and strong, funny and perceptive, smart and motivated. It wasn't until I found the perfect person on paper that I realized he wasn't what I was looking for." She looked up into his eyes, eyes wide and hopeful, praying she hadn't ruined her only chance with him.

He looked stunned, but his eyes were still very guarded. "What are you saying Temperance?"

"I want you to father my child, Seely."

"No," he said firmly. He crossed his arms in front of him.

"No?" she said increduously. "You...you said you loved me, would do anything for me...how can you say you won't do this?" Her voice rose with every word, nearing hysteria.

"Bones. Temperarance," he corrected himself. "Come here." He patted to a place by him on the couch. She rose and sat down next to him. He took her hand in his, enveloped them. She had never noticed how big his hands were, they nearly swallowed hers, and she was not a small woman.

"I love you," he began, "Hopelesly. But I can't father your child if I can't have you. It will be too hard. I want the whole package, Temperance. You. Baby. Love. Maybe even marriage." At that last hope he felt her flinch. That may be too much for her, he thought.

"There is no such thing as love Seeley. I've told you that many times before. But..."

He sensed an opening, jumping in. "But?"

"But," she croaked out, "what I feel for you defies logic. It's powerful and overwhelming and I'm terrified of living without it. Without you. Therefore," she continued, a lump forming in her throat, "I can only deduce this is what love feels like. This is love."

He pulled her into his arms, covering the top of her head with soft kisses. "Oh Temperance, it's ok. It's ok." He rocked her until she calmed. He pulled back and took her face in both hands. "You make things so hard on yourself. You have to trust me. I will never leave you. Never."

"Never?" she asked.

"Never." He leaned down, planting a small soft kiss on her lips. "Temperance Brennan, will you marry me?," he said in a half-mocking tone.

"Oh God, no," she laughed, playfully hitting his chest. "I don't think I can go quite that far. Especially in one night."

They laughed, leaning back on the couch, content, for the moment, to be in each other's arms. "Seely Booth?" she said, "Will you help me make a baby?"

"My pleasure," he said and his lips fell to hers, gently at first, then with growing need. He reached over and with his hands firmly on her hips, lifted her to straddle him. Her face was above his, her hair hanging down around them, enveloping them in a soft amber cocoon. He was rock hard already, his cock pressing on her soft mound as they started to move together. He pulled aside the wrap dress and bra and latched his mouth on one nipple, sucking hard. Brennan groaned, grinding herself into him harder, shifting slightly to rub her clit along the base of his cock.

The wrap around dress was no match for him, and his jeans were easily shed. They dispensed with foreplay all-together, desperate to be joined. It had been a whole month with both of them thinking of little else. She ripped her panties to the side and sunk down on him, sighing and shivering at his hardness, this piercing point shooting into her softest parts. He held her hips and rocked into her, his eyes roaming from the spot where they joined at the base to her face, watching the range of emotions that passed over, ecstasy, longing, desperation. Reveling in the feel of him, she slid up and down on his stiff cock. She felt herself rise and fall, rise and fall, the tension building. She cried out and felt her juices washing over them both as she climaxed. Booth tore into her, pumping hard, his lips locked on one nipple, shooting everything he had into her, cum, pain, desire, and most importantly a deep, deep passionate love. He almost wept as he came down, clutching at her, overwhelmed with emotion.

There were no words after, no small talk, and no more declarations of love. All of that was clear to both of them. That they loved each other desperately. That they would have a family, come hell or high water. And that they would never part.

Booth scooped her up, like a bride, and carried her to the bedroom. Her head fell against his shoulder and she sighed contentedly, like a kitten falling asleep. Her eyes closed softly as a deep peace came over her. She knew without a doubt this was the perfect man for her.


	6. Chapter 6

_Dr. Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth _

_are pleased to announce the birth of their daughter_

_Patience Kathryn Booth_

_Born: August 13_

_7 pounds, 8 ounces_

_Mother, father and baby are happy and healthy_

_----FINIS----_


End file.
